Billybab
by Te8
Summary: The story of a bumbling mole who finds a hero inside himself and his two best friends, all separated at childhood, but drawn together through dangers, dungeons, and epic battles by an undying spirit of companionship . . . .
1. Ambush

On the outskirts of Mossflower woods, the bright, yellow moon cast its rays on a young mole, an otter, and a squirrelmaid creeping out of a small, covered burrow in the side of a grassy knoll.

"Shhhhh," Twurl, the squirrelmaid, whispered as the silence was broken by a loud cracking twig.

"Ho burr, aye, me lassie. I ain't be a-meanin' to, boi okie, no," Billybab, a chubby little mole, said innocently.

"I don't care whether ye been meanin' to or not, just shut your pie-hole," Raff hissed in what he imagined was a tough otter voice, "this is the third time this week. We can't risk being caught.

As the three friends crept silently from Billybab's burrow, they chuckled silently at the obliviousness of their parents. The three friends snuck out almost every night, not to cause trouble, but merely to be the wild, adventurous young villains they saw themselves as.

Once the group was safely under the cover ofa grove oftall, dark green pines, they stopped to rest. It was only a few moments before Twurl's alert ears went rigid and she lept to her feet.

"Somebeast's a-comin!" she informed the others. "Best take shelter quickly"

Without question, the two friends plunged into the woods as Twurl sprinted towards the treetops.

Within a few minutes, the steady beat of a loud, heavy drum became evident, if not annoying, to all three. The pattern was unmistakable; it was captain Strenk and his army of rats. They were famous throughout the land as ruthless savages who served their captain with unwavering precision and ruthlessness. Their arrival was always made known by their unique drum beat, which had come to be known as a symbol for death and destruction.

Thug gud gud duggedy dudda diga diga dug dig dug

The beat never wavered, growing ever-louder. It rang through the forest and birds could be seen scattering to the winds as the deadly unit advanced towards the glade where the three youngbeasts were hidden. Several gunshots were heard, and a number of birds dropped to the ground, killed with a shrewd accuracy only seen in the Strenkans, as the group was commonly called.

But, still the beat did not waver.

Thug guf guf fuggedy duda diga diga dug dig dug

By now, the three friends could here captain Strenk roaring orders to his subjects. "Steady in the back there! Rifnab, pick up the pace or I'll use your tongue as a napkin! Weapons at the ready, boys. Flipsnout said somebeast was around here." He said the last part to himself, but the menacing words were unmistakable to the three beasts who lay in hiding not far from the army.

Billybab wept silently inside the large soft shrub that was his hiding place. The Strenkans were getting closer. By now, he could hear their footsteps rustling through the tall, overgrown grass that grew at the entrance of the grove. As the noise increased, Billybab began to shake involuntary. He did not want to die. He knew there was no way of fighting or running from the Strenkans. He had heard uncountable stories of woodland creatures alone in the woods being slaughtered ruthlessly by the irresistible force that was the Strenkan army. He, Billybab, a mere molechild, was nothing compared to the valiant heroes who had been hunted and killed by captain Strenk and his ruthless followers. His hands were cold and sweating, his face twisting with fear and anticipation. He could hardly bear it, the cold, harsh drums thumping in his head and pumping through his veins.

Thug guf guf fuggedy duda diga dug dig dug

Raff, who had run deep into the woods as soon as he had realized who their pursuers were, now stood by a wide, deep, running river. It was rather calm where he stood, but he could see a long stretch of whitewater through the reeds that lined the low, rugged shoreline.

He was about to turn back, but remembering the infamous beating of the drum and the harsh, measured footsteps of the Strenkans, he chose to brave the rushing waters. Throwing caution to the winds, Raff shot into the river like an arrow and took off at an alarming pace.

He was feeling good until he spied the telltale white in front of him. The current sped up suddenly as he reached the rapids. He soon realized he was no longer in control. The current tossed him this way and that, his rudder proving useless against the hectic rapids. As he was rushed along, his head was suddenly forced below the surface. He was struggling for breath, his body utterly limp and at the mercy of the river. As the rapids let up and his head came above the surface, he gasped for air, breathinga sigh of relief. No more rapids were in sight. Then he saw it. Directly in front of him, a dark, water-drenched stone stuck out of the water like a pinnacle. Its point was deadly sharp, and its black body loomed out of the mist like a grim reaper preparing for the kill. Raff barely had time to collect his thoughts before it was upon him. Just in front of him, the black was growing ever larger. It had almost completely consumed his vision when he heard a loud _thonk_ and a searing pain pervaded his body. That was the last thing he remembered.

Twurl, high in the treetops of an ancient elm, peered apprehensively down at captain Strenk, now almost directly below her. She had made up her mind. She would distract the rats with her sling while the others escaped to safety. She knew it was a long shot, but she would do anything for her friends. She knew she was risking her life, and she was proud of it as well. She had always wanted to die a hero, and now she could do that _and _protect the friends she had had and loved all of her life.

"Spread out and search the woodlands", boomed captain Strenk. "Meet at Gopher's Point at 300 hours. All captives are to be taken alive. No exceptions"

The army acted promptly, splitting into five equal groups. Three continued through the woodlands, but two split and moved through the surrounding woodlands at a rapid pace.

Twurl had to admire their discipline, but they had made a mistake by splitting up. Now she could pick them off one by one. With a secret smile hovering on her soft features, the squirrelmaid dashed over the treetops, sling in hand and pride in her heart.

Billybab crouched low, afraid to move even an inch. There were Strenkans all around him now; he could feel it. The drumbeat had faded into the distance, but the occasional footfall could easily be picked out from the eerily silent atmosphere. He should have run while he had the chance. He didn't know why he hadn't. It had just seemed the natural thing to dive into the undergrowth at the time. It was as his mother had always said; he was a sillybeast. Moles were known for their sensibility, but not Billybab.

"Why can't I just be a normal mole?" Billybab wondered in anguish and despair.

This feeling of grief was just passing through his mind when a coarse, hairy hand grabbed him by the collar and roughly pulled him from his hiding spot.

"I've got a little 'un!" called a gruff voice from right next to Billybab's ear.

"Tie him up quicklike, that's what I say," a high squeaky one replied from nearby.

"I ain't takin' orders from yew, slobbersnout," the gruff voice said menacingly. "You're a dirty liar and a coward, and I could lay you flat iffin I had a mind to."

Apparently he didn't, because a firm grip was maintained on Billybab as he was tied fast to a tree. He looked up to see a huge rat standing above him, his hands on his hips and his face fixed in a smug smile.

"W-w-w-what d-do you w-w-want with me?" Billybab managed to squeak out.

"Shuttup, scum", the Strenkan rat ordered, silencing the young mole with a single sharp, painful kick in the behind. Turning away in contempt he yelledat a group of huddled rats nearby, "put this 'un under heavy guard. He's a troublemaker, I kin tell a'ready"

As the rat strode off and was consumed by the unfathomable depths of the forest, the party of tough-looking rats advanced menacingly on Billybab. The closest one drew up near his face and snarled, apparently trying to intimidate the young mole. When Billybab began weeping in terror, the rat struck up a rough sort of laughter that was imitated by his followers. However, their laughter was cut to an abrupt stop when the leader slumped suddenly to the ground, a sharp stone tumbling to the earth beside him.

Billybab looked up and saw a dark shape flitting among the branches.

"Enemy! In the trees!", a voice shouted, then rapped out commands. "Combat formation B. All-out frontal assault, commence! Fire at will!"

A volley of arrows was launched into the overhanging branches. A nondescript shadowfarted back and forth, apparently evading the assault. Within seconds two more rats had been struck by stones and lay dead on the ground.

"Don't let up!" a voice rasped, and with renewed strength, arrows were loosed into the treetops.

A tiny _thud_ was heard as an arrow hit home. In the distance, a small, furry shape could be seen falling to the ground. A flurry of leaves rose from the forest floor where the shape had fallen.

Billybab's heart was racing. Twurl! It couldn't be, it just couldn't. As the rats raced to the scene of the commotion, a second shape dropped to the ground right in front of Billybab. It was Twurl! He had never been happier to see her face in his life. He was about to cry out, but she silenced him with a gentle finger on the lips. She gestured quickly at the rats, who, she knew, would soon discover that the shape they had hit was a decoy she had made of moss and leaves.

After deftly untying Billybab, Twurl picked him up and laboriously carried him into the treetops. She made it just in time. The Strenkans had discovered the decoy and now were regrouping. Without a thought to their safety, Twurlslowly made her wayoff towards the edge of the glade with Billybab in tow. When she got to the edge of the forest, she gently let him down to the ground.

"Quick," she told him. "Run home to your burrow before it's too late."

"But what will you do?", asked Billybab.

"Never you mind. I'll be fine, I promise," Twurl told him.

Billybab consented quickly and dashed off towards his home. Twurl climbed back into the woods and made her way to the one place she knew she would be safe: Redwall Abbey. As she looked back over her shoulder, she saw, to her horror, a group of six Strenkans hotly pursuing Billybab across the hilly country near his home. As he grew nearer and nearer to the hill his home was hidden, the Strenkans grew nearer and nearer to _him_. He had just reached the entrance to the burrow when a rat in the frontrunners reached out and seized him bodily. Twurl, overcome with guilt and grief, turned away and tore through the overlying foliage.

The soft treesfelt good under her paws, but sadness felt heavy in her heart. Her eyes blurred with tears as she ran at a breakneck speed. She could not see where she was going. However, herlegs carried her along at a rapid pace, as she knew the Strenkans must be close on her heels. Carrying blindly onward, her foot snagged on something hard and sharp. She fell forward with an abrupt lurch and her head hit a thick branch. Hard.

As her world turned to darkness, Twurl's last vision was that of a small cloaked creature standing over her, its face enshrouded by the voluminous folds of its hood.


	2. Gwine Pigs

"Fffetch a wwwee bit more of zzat hhhherbal tea, Encoodna," a thin, wavering voice rasped.

A heavily cloaked figure, much like the one Twurl had spied before, was standing over her, staring beadily into her eyes. It looked like a mouse, but its face was much wider, and it looked to be a fair amount taller as well. Its gaze was deep and penetrating, the rest of its face bland and expressionless.

As Twurl lay there in an almost pitch darkness, a second figure, probably the one she had seen before she blacked out, strode silkily to the hard cot on which Twurl lied, hissing quietly under her breath. She held a small ornate saucer and a cup in her hand. An incredibly foul smell drifted from the cup, and Twurl wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Hhhere it is," the creature commanded in an even more raspy voice than its counterpart, "Zzze hhherbal tea wwith a touch of wwwintercress and rrrat urine. It beez gudd for zzzee body. Yyyon maiden ssshall dddrink zzee whole zzzing, make sssure of it"

As the cup passed hands to the first creature, Twurl trembled with fear. The creature slowly brought the cup up to Twurl's lips, where she could just barely taste the foul concoction. As the liquid was poured liberally into Twurl's mouth, the putrid tea burned down her throat, causing searing pain. She began to choke, and gagged loudly. The creature immediately drew the cup away from Twurl's mouth and made sure she had stopped choking before speaking.

"Sssso, ye hhave fffinally awakened. Who are ye, pppray tell? What be yourrr busssiness with ze Strenkans hereabouts?" the creature questioned.

"My friends and I were just out for a little expedition when we were attacked by the rat army. We didn't stand a chance and ran for it. It was not our fault at all.

"I did not think it wwwere, ma beauty. I do not asssk for explanation, only ffor yourrr ssstory. Mmme and my ssissster here, Encoodna, wwwe's what you might call rrrecorders. Wwwe wrrrite down zzzee ssstories of whoever comes our way, so's we can have sssomethin' to rrread to passss zzzee long, lonely hours," the creature explained.

"Well, I'd be obliged to spin you a yarn," Twurl replied, "but first, if you don't mind me asking, exactly what are you and what is your name?"

"Wwe are pigs, forrr lack of a better wwword. Wwwe are sssometimes called gwwwine pigs, as wwwe come frrrom the island of Gwwine, far to the north. My name isss Rictess. I hhave lived in zzese parts ever sssince my family wwwas raped of zzeir beautiful hhhome, Rrredwall abbey."

"Redwall abbey?" questioned Twurl in surprise. "That is where I come from. And I've never heard of any gwine pigs living there, let alone being cast out. You must be mistaken."

"I am most sssertainly nnot. But nevvver mind that. Carry on wwith yon tale." It was a command, not a request."

"I have lived in Redwall Abbey all my life," Twurl began, "and I can't think of a better or more beautiful place in the entire world." With that, she launched into her tale.


	3. A Redwall Girlhood

**AN: This is a boring chapter, so you don't really need to read it to get the full experience. Just skip or skim the long story part and read the end. That way you won't get bored and hate me )**

"My first memories are of my dibbun days. I was never a normal dibbun. While the other young ones liked to swim in the abbey pond, play imaginative games, and eat fruits and candied nuts, I preferred to remain in solitude. I loved the company of Martin the Warrior in the Great Hall, of reeds and willows on the banks of the pond, and, on occasion, that of older beasts, who were the only ones I felt I could relate to. I was often asked to play with the others, but I soon grew weary of their games and rouses. As you might have guessed, I learned to read and write at an early age, and grew quite good at it. I would write short stories and poems about nature and our abbey, describing its tranquility and perfection. I loved to write poetry, line after line, all in perfect rhythm. It was a special goal of mine to write the perfect poem, one that would amaze and astound the readers, one that I could be remembered for. I was lost in the beauty of words in my childhood. They consumed me.

"In those days the Strenkans were common criminals. They were not accomplished warriors as they are now. They would steal and kill what they needed, but did not pose a serious threat to the well-guarded beasts in our abbey. They were just another gang of rats who hated the good and peaceful creatures of this earth. I was unbothered by them as a simple, carefree squirrelchild.

"One long winter season, it all changed. The Strenkans seemed to triple in number overnight, and rapidly grew as they conquered foebeasts all across Mossflower. The population of our Abbey drastically increased as woodland creatures fled the wrath of captain Strenk and his murderous horde.

"They were hard times, still are. It seemed like every day there was another report of a missing mole or a murdered squirrel. The guosim shrews had moved south for the winter, and Skipper and his otters were no match for the mighty numbers of the horde. The otters were the only beasts that left the abbey during those days, and they usually returned with dismal bad tidings. Some were sent to seek the guosim shrews, but they never returned, probably destroyed by the hard, driving snow and ice of that winter, or by the Strenkans, who seemed to kill anything that moved.

"In those days, I lost my innocence. I saw creatures I knew killed in front of our abbey, and I knew evil. I knew that there were creatures out there who hated me and my way of life. I lost my faith in nature and our abbey. Those beautiful things I had written poems about in my younger days seemed tarnished with malice, hate, and the blood of goodbeasts. I was disenchanted with the written word, and I needed something else to do with my life.

"When the spring came and the veil of winter was lifted from the land, it was easy to see where everything lay. Many had died during the long winter, but many creatures still dwelled within the abbey, which had not of yet been directly attacked. And, much to the delight of the abbey-dwellers, the guosim shrews were returning. With the added force of the Mossflower shrews coupled with that of all of the friends they could round up gave us the ability to combat the Strenkans, something we had not been able to effectively do for an entire season.

"As action outside the abbey grew, I became eager to experience the adventures that the older beasts were having. They were being brave, perilous fighting beasts, and there I was, sitting alone in the abbey with nothing to do.

"That's when I met Raff. He was a young, lively, otter with a natural sense of adventure and independence. He was the nephew of the Skipper of otters, and had been brought up to be exceptionally wise and crafty for his age. Without fail, he would find a way to sneak us out of Redwall at least once a week. Once we were out in the woodlands under the bright, beautiful moon, all our cares would wash away. We would revel, as I had so missed doing, in the scent of the pines and the clearness of the air as we made our way to find Raff's molefriend Billybab.

"Billybab was a character, alright. He was one of the silliest beasts I had ever met. He loved mischief and fantasy-play, and it seemed like he was always getting himself into trouble. However, Billybab was a necessary addition to our little band. He was like a breath of fresh air. For all the trouble he caused us, we could always just look to Billybab for a silly comment or gesture that would, without fail, cheer us up.

"Our ventures started out as just childish escapades. At first we never strayed far from the abbey. We would just explore the countryside; the massive oaks, the deep ditches, the muddy ponds and marshes. The world was our playground. We still loved the dibbun games of the abbey, and we would play them in the wilderness. We couldn't resist a good game of "hide and go peek" or "the adder and the mouse". We never expected anything serious to happen; we were just playing around . . . just playing . . . until the other day, when those childish games we so loved faded into this terrible reality.

"It was awful, the beating of those terrible drums, and the rats behind them, those despicable Strenkans. My friends are lost to me forever. I can't believe they're gone; they're all I had in the whole world. I shouldn't have told Billy to go. I should have taken him with me. . . I'm so ashamed . . . It's. . .It's all. . . It's all my fault. . . ."

Twurl's voice faded away as she started to sob silently. Rictess appeared to be touched by the tragic tale.

"Ahh, do not frret, mmy wwwee child, I'm sssure you wwwill find zzem sssomeday. It wwill be alrrright; to every crrrime zzere is justice, my fffriend."

"I guess you may have a point there, marm," Twurl said, overcoming her tears, "and if they are out there, I'm going to start my search right now."

Encoodna looked as if she were about to object, but Rictess, seeing the determined light in Twurl's eyes, gave her friend a stern glance that silenced her immediately.

"I guesss thisss is where our paths part, but dddo not leavvve without sssome rrrations for zzze road ahead," Rictess said with a small smile perched awkwardly below her dark, glowing eyes.

"Oh, no, that's quite alright. I know a place where I will be fed not far from here. Do not worry about it," Twurl politely refused.

"No, I insssist," replied Rictess, holding out a package wrapped in brown, dusty parchment.

Twurl, not wanting to seem ungrateful for all the two had done for her, took the package from the hands of the strange old creature.

"Thank you, and may a life of good blessings be bestowed upon you," said Twurl as she stumbled her way through the dark abode to where she could see the dim outlines of a door. She opened it and stepped out into the bright daylight of Mossflower woods. Without a glance backwards, she bounded off into the thick, leafy canopy.

In the doorway of their home, perched on the top of a massive oak, the two old gwine pigs stood, watching Twurl bound through the trees of Mossflower.

"Do yyyou think ssshe wwwill rread it?" asked Encoodna.

"I wwould be sssurprised if ssshe did not," her friend said, smiling slyly.


	4. Massacre

Billybab's feet pounded on the firm, well-packed dirt as he ran as fast as his short, stout legs could carry him. He was sweating hard, running from the vermin horde he knew was pursuing him. He dared not look back. He did not want to see the horror that was hard on his heels. His only goal was to reach home safely; it was the only thought in his terrified mind. As he got closer to his burrow, he began flagging. He knew he was almost there, but his legs wouldn't move any faster. He was panting madly, his arms flapping ungainly back and forth. That was when he heard the rat behind him. He could hear his breath; he could smell his disgusting stench; he could feel the rat had almost caught him, but his home was only a few yards away. Billybab, with a sudden surge of energy, broke away towards his burrow and dove blindly towards it.

He was almost into the passage when something hard flew at him and carried him bodily through the air. He closed his eyes to the pain that followed; he was slammed to the ground by the rat that had caught him. From then on, all was blurred and confused, as if he were drifting in cloudy haze between sleep and wakefulness.

He could vaguely hear gruff voices in the background.

"Raid the little hole, ma buckoes! Take no prisoners!" one said, piercing through the low rumble of confused noise.

A few seconds later, Billybab could hear faint screams and the sounds of a battle far away.

"My family!", Billybab thought, in frantic horror. He desperately tried to raise himself to help, but a firm grip held him in place. He continued to struggle, but the rat who held him was a strongbeast indeed.

But the screams were getting closer. They weren't like any Billybab had ever heard before. They weren't happy, or sad, or even scared. They were terrified, Billybab decided. They were the screams of beasts driven over the brink of insanity into a world of unparalleled terror. The harsh screams were sharp and violent, rife with fear. In the screams was an edge of desperation, as if the creatures they belonged to knew they were destined to die, but were still battling in vain against unbeatable odds.

And then, abruptly, the screaming stopped. A sickening silence hung in the air as a parade of rats emerged from the burrow. Their uniforms were flecked with blood and dirt, their faces fixed in triumphant smirks. Food, clothes, trinkets, and even a small, limp molewife were slung over their broad, sinewy shoulders.

Billybab, horrified, gazed at the scene of ruthless massacre. The heartlessness of the evil vermin sickened the innocent molechild. As a deep, furious hate for those who would be so careless as to do this to goodbeasts grew in his heart, he spied the face of the molewife so carelessly flung across the back of a big, burly rat captain. Recognition dawned on Billybab's fear-hardened features.

It was his mother. There was no doubt in his mind. It was she who had raised him from a wee babe. He had known her as the pretty young creature that had fed and nursed him all his life. Now, however, she looked so old and tired, her features worn and pained by the hardships she had undergone. A bloody gash stretched from her lip to her forehead, and purple and black bruises stood out on her torso and legs. It looked as of she had been heavily beaten. But Billybab knew she was alive. She had to be. His mother had been the only reliable fixture in his life besides his two friends, and they were long gone now. He could not lose her. He could not lose them. He didn't know what he'd do without them. He could not stand to live in a reality without his mother, without his friends. Convincing himself they must be alive, for his sake, Billybab set his face in a tight grimace and watched the scene before him with the battle-hardened features of a beast who had endured the hardships of a lifetime.

As the rat carrying his mother threw her to the ground at the feet of captain Strenk, a rage sparked in Billybab's heart. As he kicked her once, Billybab's eyes flamed up with fury. As he kicked her again, Billybab knew neither she nor he could take any more abuse. Overtaken by a vehement rage, he leapt to his feet, violently threw off his bewildered captor, and charged directly at the captain.

"Guards!" Strenk shouted, and as he did, two rats stepped in front of Billybab. Their big, ugly, smiling faces were the last thing Billybab saw as his world faded into darkness.


	5. Of Tunnels and Treefrogs

Pain. Pain was all Raff could feel. Pain pierced his mind and coursed through his torso. His arms were limp and useless, his legs two fiery balls of pain. His only thought was to make pain go away. With a Herculean effort, Raff slowly opened his eyes and peered through the narrow space between his eyelids. Above him was a sky of clear blue flecked with short, white streaks. Just as Raff was beginning to relax, a wide, green face suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Weel then, look who 'tis, th' li'l streamdog. Ye took quite a fall over there, ye did. Mighty grand a'venture that musta been; I thought those Strenkans was gonna catch you, but you was a mighty bravebeast jumpin' in them rapids", the little treefrog said, talking in a fast-paced, animated voice.

"You saw th' whole thing?" Raff shouted indignantly, despite the shooting pain it caused him. "Why didn't ye 'elp me?"

"Why didn' I 'elp ye? Well that bes a good question, sir. Well, ye see, there warn't much of a way I could've 'elped ye escape from them vermin. Ye were pretty much in a fix right thar, wit' no noticeable way out. What use would a single li'l treefogger be again' that murd'rous 'horde o' vermins? No offense ma kind sir, but your anger bees misplaced."

"Well, I guess ye are right. And ye have spared me life s'far, so I'm probably obliged to pay ye a bit o' respect," Raff conceded sarcastically, certain the frog did not have the will or ability to harm him.

"Weel then, I see ye've jus' now come 'round to ma way o' thinkin', eh?" the oblivious treefrog said. "Now that we bees seein' eye to eye, I would be obliged ta take ye back to ma wee home, iffen ye don't mind stayin' a while to rest them sizeable wounds o' yers."

Raff agreed and got up slowly and painfully to follow the irrepressible treefrog to his home, the treefrog chattering gaily along the way.

"I been livin' in these here trees a great long while, but I ain't never seen a streamdogger o' such great wallopin' strength as you, ma huge, brawny wee sir. I bet ye could lift my tree right out o' th' groun' an' wear it as a hat for th' rest o' your days. But l'il Grontetta wouldn't be too partial to that, would she? Nay, I don't think she would. She likes have everythin' jus' perfec' all da time. She is a right nice little lady 'tho'. Keeps the house spick 'n' span and I ain't never seen a reason to complain. But dear me, I bet you ain't never seen a female treefrog, ma fantastic furry friend. Them females, they's the most beautiful, colyful, kind, respectable, smooth-skinned, small-jawed, perty little creatures ye could ever find in da whole wide world."

And so the treefrog rambled aimlessly until Raff had the mind to cut in. "Say, ma li'l treefrogger, what did ye say your name was?"

"I didn't, ma roarin' rambunctious ruffian, but ma name bes unknown even to maself. When I was merely a wee babe, ma family was killed by th' Strenkan army, and I was the only one ta survive. I don't know why, I guess they spared me for some reason o' their own concoction. I've always felt sorta guilty 'cuz I survived and they didn't." The voice of the normally happy-go-lucky frog trailed away and he lapsed into a momentary silence. Raff could have sworn he saw a lone tear running down his naked green cheek.

Raff was surprised and stunned. He was silent as well for a moment, but gradually felt it was acceptable for him to speak. "Well, what shall I call ye then?"

"Mos' beasts jus' call ma Noname, on accounts o' me not havin' a name. It ain't ma first choice, but I get by wit' it jus' fine"

Raff sighed in agreement and continued to walk. The rest of the trip was passed in silence; Noname was apparently lost in thought.

Eventually, the two beasts reached an open clearing. It was littered with stumps and logs of all shapes and sizes. To Raff's surprise, Noname smiled and said with a proud flourish, "here we are!"

"You mean you live in a log?" Raff asked, bewildered.

"But o' course," Noname informed him. "Th' Strenkans don't expec' that there are creatures livin' in th' logs. They look in th' trees, on th' groun', and in th' river, but they don' never look in th' logs. I've got the ideal hidin' spot for me and me old lady. Lemme show ye." With a look of glee, Noname, apparently forgetting his earlier solemnity, bounded into the middle of the clearing and disappeared.

Raff, frustrated bewilderment etched on his tired face, stepped warily towards the place where Noname had disappeared. As his foot hit the ground where he had last seen Noname, he felt it give way, and before he could stop himself, he was falling headlong downwards through a dark tunnel. However, his fall was short-lived. Before he could so much as get his bearings, he landed on a fluffy, soft cushion. He was immediately buried in it, and had to struggle wildly to find his way out. When he was clear of the furry mass, he looked about. The cavern he was in was pitch black, except for two points of light directly in front of him. Peering closer, he saw they were eyes.

Raff shivered and slowly stepped backwards. From in front of him, he heard a soft clink of metal. Raff flinched as the cave was filled with light. Standing behind a fire and holding a chunk of what must have been steel in his hand was Noname, shamelessly smiling at his little joke. Next to him was another treefrog, obviously the female Noname had been talking about. She was brightly colored and a good head taller than her mate. Her eyes were narrow and pointed at the end, but they glowed prettily in the firelight. Raff was certain that he would be attracted to her if he were a frog.

As Raff took in his surroundings, he heard Noname say almost smugly, "Welcome to our beautiful home." He gestured at the well-decorated and furnished room around them with an air of practiced pride.

Looking around him, the first thought that entered Raff's mind was that it was all perfect. Behind him was a huge, circular bed covered in a white fluffy material; he was still not sure what the stuff was made of. In front of him was a dark tunnel that Raff imagined led to further reaches of their underground abode. On the walls and ceiling were paintings depicting a variety of great battles and deeds. Fighting against unimaginable odds were mice, otters, squirrels, and even some animals he did not recognize. Those he had never seen before seemed to all be of the same species. They looked to be slightly bigger than a large mouse, but, unlike mice, they had no tails. He knew they must be exceptional warriors because the depictions of them were numerous and greatly glorified. Although the rest of the room was enviable, the walls and ceiling outdid it all. The dining area, fireplace, rocking chairs, love seat, and bed were all dwarfed by the huge domed mural that spread across the dwelling.

Turning to the couple, Raff voiced his awe. "This. . . . is amazing," he said. "Truly amazing."

The couple nodded silently in agreement, sharing the wonder of their historic home.

Breaking the spell abruptly, Raff pointed out, "I thought you said you lived in a log."

"No, no," Noname told him, "that was only for th' sake of th' element of surprise, ye see."

Raff began to nod slowly in agreement, but saw a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. "Duck!" he commanded urgently.

Without question, Noname threw himself to the ground, dragging Grontetta with him. An arrow whizzed over their heads and buried itself in the wall inches from Raff's head. A second arrow flew into the corridor and pierced Raff's ear, pinning it against the wall. The two tree frogs screamed in terror as a group of Strenkan rats emerged from the tunnel at the end of the room. They were armed to the teeth and had their weapons drawn and ready. Noname and Grontetta cowered on the ground, praying theywould be spared the death they had lived in fear of their entire lives.


	6. Return to Redwall

"Stop that at once Mibble!" scolded mother Severnal. "If you do not stop that at once it's to bath and bed without supper for you!"

Severnal, the Abbess at Redwall Abbey had been sitting comfortably in her big, overstuffed easy chair in Cavern Hole and reading one of her favorite books "The Mole and the Muskrat" when she had been rudely interrupted by the childish antics of Mibble the molebabe. Mibble seemed to be the only dibbun she could not control. She had her way with all the others, but Mibble was a real trouble maker. Currently, he was running circles round the chair, staining the carpet with his mud-soaked feet as he did so. Severnal did not enjoy getting mad, but she knew there were times it was necessary.

"Stop that right now or I'll tell Rictess what you did!"

That did it. Mibble stopped his frolicking immediately and stared open-mouthed. Rictess was a forbidden word among the abbey-babes. Legend had it that in ancient times, a mouse named Rictess used to live in the abbey, but she was cast out because she was such an unruly dibbun. It was said she died in the cold and rain outside the abbey and from then on dedicated herself to the torture of dibbuns who broke the abbey rules. Severnal knew there was no truth in this story. It had been told many seasons ago by a wayfaring Strenkan rat who claimed to have thrown off his evil ways. However, it was a scary story and could stop any dibbun in his or her tracks.

Before Severnal could open her mouth to give any further orders to Mibble, the Skipper of Otters emerged panting from the doorway.

"We've found Twurl, mother, out by the east wallgate. She appears unharmed, carryin' some sort o' package."

"That's wonderful news, Skipper," the mother abbess replied, relieved. "Set up brunch in the gatehouse for say, fifteen. Invite whoever you see fit."

"Ah'll get right on that, ma'am," the big, brawny Skipper of Otters replied, casually shouldering Mibble and nonchalantly strolling off to his duties.

The abbess was left by herself. She couldn't help it, but she was still worried about Twurl. She had been noticing her acting up lately; she wasn't the gay little artist she had been when she was little. Worried, Severnal quickly finished her chapter, marked her spot in the book and hurried to the gatehouse for what she anticipated to be a delicious meal.

All the prominent abbey beasts were packed into the gatehouse. There was Skipper of Otters and Chelfer the old Recorder squirrel, along with the abbey's ottercook, Kelff. Frederick cellarhog, Minerva the healer, and an assortment of other beasts were present as well, the most prominent of which was Twurl, who had been seated in the place of honor on the big, overstuffed, highbacked armchair that Chelfer used for afternoon naps. Twurl was suffering from a barrage of questions, jibes and offers of more apple crumb flan and rootberry pudding when Severnal appeared at the door.

"Mother Abbess!" Twurl cried out. "I'm so sorry I caused you all this trouble. I just wanted to have a little fun; I hope you weren't worried about me . . . it won't happen again, I swear it."

"Calm down, child," Severnal said soothingly. "Of course I was not that worried. I know you can handle yourself just fine."

"But I can't, mother," Twurl weeped, "Me and Raff and Billybab, we got attacked . . . it was awful . . . killed him . . . Strenk . . . blood . . . Rictess was . . . . . saved me . . ." Her terrified voice trailed off into a whisper. Her fur was matted with tears. Her audience was deathly silence. All questioning had ceased, as they knew Twurl had been through an ordeal they did not even want to imagine.

"It will be okay," Severnal assured her, breaking the silence. "You can come to my study after brunch and we'll talk about the whole thing rationally, okay?"

Twurl looked up and nodded slowly through her tear-stained fur. The rest of the meal was spent in almost complete silence, the only remark being when the abbey's resident harewife, Jaynie Haverstuckle looked up through a face full of woodland pie and remarked, "Mighty good grub, wot wot?" Her remarks were met only with disapproving stares.


End file.
